


Wolves in Sleek Clothing

by midnightghostwriter



Series: The Brass Wolf [1]
Category: 2NE1, Mamamoo, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, CEO Namjoon, F/F, Fluff, M/M, Master/Servant, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sensory Deprivation, Smut, Water Sex, role play, water play
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-09
Updated: 2016-06-15
Packaged: 2018-07-14 00:15:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7144397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightghostwriter/pseuds/midnightghostwriter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taehyung is an art graduate trapped in a job he hates, but the enigmatic Kim Namjoon has an interesting proposition for him. So long as he's ready to give in to the darker side of human desire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Tested

**Author's Note:**

> This work will be written over the course of the Bangtan Boys Kink Bingo. There will be lots of kinks and lots of sex, and you can blame a majority of that on dirtyretro because she made a lot of suggestions for this. Thanks to her, bugarungus, runkairun, and all the great people of Kink Bingo for helping me struggle bus through writing this.

Scant light cascaded through the blinds over the single window, illuminating the shabby but comfortable studio apartment. The greyish sheen fell over the small lounge, just barely furnished with a small couch that had seen better days and a modest television (also thrifted). Adjoining was the sparsely decorated dining area, home to only a table and two chairs. This in turn was connected to the slip of a kitchen, containing the bare necessities, such as cupboards and a microwave, as well as the fridge in front of which a fiery-haired young man now stood. His form was slumped in something like defeat, the hand not clutching the door wrapped in the crimson locks and face buried in the despairingly empty fridge.

“Fuck.”

This was not the first time this had happened. Over the months since he’d received the piece of paper so exquisitely emblazoned with his name and major, Kim Taehyung had frequently discovered his fridge and cupboards to be empty. He blamed the financial war against student debt and bills that he’d been forced into facing after graduation. At least he got free food during the long shifts at his crap job.

Ah yes, his job. With a groan of consternation, Taehyung whirled from the depressing sight of empty shelves and dragged his unwilling feet back into the bedroom off the lounge. As much as he would rather wade through waist-deep mud, he had to do something to try and refill the fridge. So on went his uniform pants and button-up shirt, shoes following suit before he flew out the door.

* * *

 Shifts at the odd little Boston cafe where he worked had once been fun and exciting for Taehyung. There were always new and interesting people passing through, fun stories from his co-workers, and the drink lineup was constantly changing. But the stories had run out, the drinks began to run together, and so did the faces.

As it was now, Taehyung mostly spent his shifts yawning at the counter and cleaning the entire shop way too many times. Watching the few souls scattered at the tables toddle through various stages of work, school, and pleasure, today seemed to be no different. His only other companion in the battle against work boredom was a shorter girl with loud turquoise hair that was apparently determined to forget his existence in favor of the faint traces of metal music blaring from the headphones that seemed permanently affixed to her skull (and how she had ignored his every attempt at conversation since the day she started). He was about seventy percent sure her name was Janis or something.

Night had fallen on the streets beyond the wide picture windows out which Tae’s vacant expression had fixated, signalling the imminent end of his shift and the cafe’s closing. Driven nearly to madness with boredom, he had succumbed to the LED glow of his phone, fingers tapping rapidly as he tried to keep up with his game. This would explain why the cheerful call of the entry bell went unnoticed, and the patron it announced found it quite easy to make it to the counter without receiving any sort of recognition until a low cough rumbled up from his throat and brought the boy’s eyes to his.

Taehyung’s breath nearly stopped at the sight of him. The man at the counter was unfairly attractive, perfectly tailored and clearly expensive suit fitting the lines of his body in the best way. His silver-blonde hair was styled into a perfect coif, the fringe of it dusting the tops of the square frames balanced on his nose. His eyes bore into Taehyung’s unashamedly, as if he had expected to find the other staring so openly, a spark of amusement that matched the curve of his lips lighting the dark brown orbs. Taehyung tried not to notice the dimples cutting into the man’s cheeks, eyes instead finding the long fingers now adjusting the man’s tie.

In short, for our poor barista, this man was sin incarnate.

When it became clear Taehyung wasn’t going to offer up anything of worth, the stranger cleared his throat and spoke, a timbre that Taehyung swore he could feel in his toes (and other places, if he was honest).

“Slow day?” Tae’s eyes followed the man’s to the phone still clutched in his hand and his cheeks flooded faint red.

“Just a bit,” he replied, hoping the other couldn't hear the nerves tightening his voice.

“Maybe I can make it more exciting.” Taehyung sincerely hoped he wasn't imagining the innuendo coloring the words. “Sit with me?”

“M-me?” Taehyung asked, baffled and the man’s shining smile turned genuinely amused as he let out a chuckle that made Tae’s nerves tingle.

“Yes, you. And can I have a caramel macchiato?” Taehyung smiled and hopped up to put the drink in the register, thankful for the distraction. Turning, he found J-something very much not paying attention and with a roll of his eyes turned to mix the drink.

“Don't forget something for yourself, pet. You promised to keep me company, remember?” Taehyung’s brain stumbled over the name, and how it rolled easily off the man’s tongue, fingers faltering and nearly splashing hot coffee all over himself. When he'd recovered, his cheeks were even more inflamed than before.

“Right,” he mumbled, and he swore he could feel the man smirking at his back.

* * *

The man’s name, it turned out, was Kim Namjoon.

Namjoon was great company for a stranger. Though he said a little about himself, he was attentive and offered his own insights. Taehyung couldn’t remember the last time he had so easily shared about himself with someone new.

There were a few moments where Taehyung lost his thoughts in the intensity of Namjoon’s stare. Each and every time he swore he saw the blonde smile slightly, as if he were a predator whose prey was dancing ever closer to his trap. It should have been unnerving, but somehow Taehyung wasn’t bothered. If anything the small glances thrilled him.

Time seemed to slide along much faster while they spoke. When his words finally began to slow, it took his coworker (nope, he’d completely lost her name at this point) clearing her throat to jar him out of whatever bubble he’d been in. He turned back toward the counter to find her glaring, headphones slung around her neck. Well that was a surprise.

“Taehyung, aren’t you supposed to count the cash and stuff?” She grumped and he looked at the clock. Was it really that late? When he looked back at him, Namjoon was watching with a look of understanding.

“Have I overstayed my welcome?” He didn’t sound upset, but Taehyung still shook his head vigorously, bringing a small smile to Namjoon’s full lips.

“No, no, of course not!” He said the words louder than he’d meant to, earning raised eyebrows from both Namjoon and whatever-her-name-was. Cheeks red again, he lowered his voice to add, “It’s not your fault. We just have to close, and she doesn’t know how. I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. I shouldn’t have taken up so much of your time,” Namjoon assured smoothly, rising from his seat. Taehyung followed suit, eyeing the other man nervously. Namjoon offered him a smirk that made his insides clench. “Don’t worry, I’ll come back tomorrow. Good night, Taehyung.”

“Good night.” Returning to his place behind the counter, Taehyung watched Namjoon stride to the cafe’s door (and he was definitely not staring at the way those tailored pants fit across Namjoon’s - _nope, not staring_ ). He looked on in surprise as the older man turned back around to fix his eyes on something other than him.

“And good night, Chelsea.” There was a clatter as the girl in question dropped the plate she’d been washing and Taehyung whirled around in shock.

“Your name is Chelsea?” He exclaimed, the sound of Namjoon’s chuckle echoing in his ears as the girl glowered at him.

* * *

True to his word, Namjoon strode through the cafe doors at virtually the same time as he had the previous day. When he caught sight of the coif and suit Taehyung straightened and tried to look like he hadn’t been waiting for Namjoon’s arrival. The action didn’t go unnoticed, however, and Namjoon’s grin became teasing as he stepped up to the counter.

“Did you miss me that much, pet?” Taehyung did his best to look like the endearment didn’t have him warm all over. Instead he cocked an eyebrow to match Namjoon’s and shook his head.

“What’s there to miss? We barely know each other,” he tried, hoping his voice didn’t betray him. That smirk Taehyung was growing to love appeared as Namjoon leaned almost imperceptibly closer, hands planting on the counter. Taehyung swallowed nervously.

“You’re right. Let’s fix that, shall we?” He leaned away again and gestured to the chalkboard menu behind Taehyung’s head. “Surprise me.”

Once again Taehyung found himself in Namjoon’s company far longer than he’d expected, this time with mochas in hand (Tae’s specialty). Once again they discussed everything under the sun except Namjoon himself, but Taehyung didn’t mind. Even without all the facts, he was undeniably charming, and certainly excellent company.

When closing time came again, Namjoon was quick to excuse himself, moving to the door shortly after Chelsea once again interrupted them. Taehyung rushed to stop him, hand darting out to grasp his wrist, and Namjoon’s surprised look gave him an unexpected rush of victory that he’d succeeded in catching him off guard.

“Are you coming back?” He hated how small his voice sounded, like a child asking for something from an unwilling parent. Namjoon smiled, the turn of his lips surprisingly gentle. His fingers encircled Taehyung’s, and pulled them from his wrist.

“Yes, of course.” Before the question of _but when_ could slide past Taehyung’s lips, Namjoon had raised Taehyung’s hand to his own mouth. The younger boy could feel the words seep into his skin and make his blood turn hot when Namjoon mumbled “I doubt I could stay away” against his fingers.

And then he was gone.

* * *

 It was nearly two weeks before Namjoon returned, but he kept his word. One of the few things Tae learned as the weeks wore on between them was  Namjoon always kept his promises. Also, that Namjoon had inexplicably learned his schedule, though he had never once asked Taehyung about it.

“Is he your boyfriend?" Chelsea asked one evening as they watched Namjoon sweep in, only giving Taehyung a look before settling at their usual table in the corner. Taehyung gave her the most indignant look he could manage.

"No of course not," he scoffed. She continued to look unconvinced.

"Friend with benefits? Or maybe..." She glanced over at Namjoon who was now absorbed in his phone, expensive dress shoes tapping against the floor. The look Taehyung gave her could only be described as horrified.

"No!" He exclaimed at the same time Namjoon's "Today, pet!" carried to them through the otherwise empty cafe. “We’re just friends,” he insisted, giving her one last offended look. He scampered off to join Namjoon, missing Chelsea roll her eyes.

"Yeah right,” she muttered, and tugged her headphones back on.

Taehyung collapsed into the chair across from Namjoon with a sigh, prompting the latter to raise his eyebrows as he took the cup Tae offered him.

“She giving you trouble?” Taehyung shook his head.

“Just being nosy,” he answered with a shrug. Namjoon cast him a contemplative look over the rim of his cup. When he had been quiet far longer than normal, Taehyung glanced over at him. “What?”

“Do you ever think about working somewhere else?” He received a dry chuckle in response.

“Only every day.” Taehyung took a pull of his coffee and shook his head, red tresses dancing. “But all I’ve got is a pretty useless art degree and several grand in student debt.” Namjoon nodded, falling silent again for so long Taehyung almost wondered if he’d fallen asleep with his eyes open. Then, the question.

“What if I could offer you an alternative?” Taehyung’s eyebrows shot into his hairline and he looked Namjoon over.

“An alternative? Where? At whatever fancy company you work for?” Namjoon chuckled.

“No. But I know some people who are always looking for new… help.” Taehyung frowned at him, a finger jabbing accusingly at his chest.

“Why did you say it like that?”

“Taehyung, you know I’d never suggest you do something dangerous or harmful for you, right?” The intensity of Namjoon’s stare, coupled with the way the question rolled so carefully off his tongue, made Taehyung’s stomach twist. _Did he?_ During the time they’d come to know each other, he’d began to think of Namjoon as someone to be trusted. So why did this whole situation make him so nervous?

“Of course,” he replied instead, voice hushed with nerves and curiosity alike. With a stiff nod, Namjoon continued.

“The place I’m talking about is… unusual. But as an art student I think you could appreciate its catering to human desire in its rawest forms.”

“What are you trying to say?” Heart in his throat, Taehyung couldn’t find it in him to look away from the other.

“The establishment is known for catering to any and all needs of those with the money to buy those services. Primarily those of a more sexual nature.” Taehyung’s heart relocated to his throat, thrumming intensely, and suddenly it was much too warm in the small cafe.

“What, like a sex slave?” He choked out. Nammjoon’s expression darkened a bit.

“Certainly not. You will have a contract, and will never be _forced_ to consent to anything. Everything will be provided for you, with additional wages as well, in exchange for your services. And you can leave whenever you like.”

“Still sounds dodgy to me,” Taehyung grumbled. Namjoon sighed and rose. From the pocket of his blazer, he pulled a small square of paper and placed it before Taehyung.

“Just a suggestion. If you change your mind, call that number.” Without another word, he breezed past a stunned Taehyung and unaware Chelsea, disappearing into the night. When  his mind had recovered somewhat, Tae turned the paper over, staring at the three words scrawled on the back above Namjoon’s name.

_The Brass Wolf._

* * *

 For nearly three long, agonizing weeks, Taehyung had carefully contemplated Namjoon’s offer. The slip of paper he’d pressed into his hand at the cafe had since become worn and crumpled from many hours of consideration, unfolding the scrawling letters to stare at them, conflicted, before being stuffed back into his pocket. He knew so little about this man, about this place - could either truly be trusted? Google searches for _anything_ had revealed the exact opposite about both.

The most he had gotten when he searched the address given to him was an array of images depicting a lavish looking hotel. It had sprawling grounds, ornate rooms, everything one would look for in a five star establishment. And yet all he had managed to find beyond that were vague reviews touting the place, and rather lacking descriptions of its business model. For all intents and purposes, The Brass Wolf seemed to be completely and entirely normal. Aside from the price tag, of course.

Namjoon, on the other hand, turned up nothing. Absolutely nothing. Not even a single article or social media page. Taehyung had learned a great deal about him since he had begun visiting the cafe. He knew that Namjoon liked philosophy and waxing poetic about life and literature alike. He had a fondness for strong coffee, and a distaste for the sweet cakes served with it. His passions lay with music and the rhythms and beats composing it; in the scrawled words of great authors and poets; in watching the world change and transpire around him and puzzling out why it was.

But these were all things he knew about the man Namjoon, who came and bought coffee and was simply an attractive man in an attractive (and expensive) suit. Who Kim Namjoon, the man outside coffee beans and spilled drinks, was, was a mystery Taehyung couldn’t begin to fathom, let alone trust.

And yet he found himself pulling out his phone and dialing the number scratched onto the bottom of the crumpled note. He found himself putting it to his ear with his heart in his throat, and fighting against a crippling bout of nerves as it rang. God, he really _really_ hoped this worked.

“Hello Taehyung,” Taehyung allowed himself a mental sigh of relief as Namjoon’s voice washed over him. “I was beginning to think I'd never hear from you. And what a shame that would be.”

“I just needed some time to think, that's all. It's, uh, it's a lot.”

“And?” Though there was a definite note of amusement, Namjoon’s voice sounded smug, as if he already knew exactly what Taehyung’s was going to say. Even so, Tae took a deep breath and gave his answer.

“I'll do it.”

* * *

The Brass Wolf was infinitely more impressive in person. Taehyung had always considered himself to be on the taller side of the spectrum, and yet the expansive building made him feel like an ant upon its lawn. The brick walls alone were imposing, holding a sort of timeless command for respect while also expressing the sophistication of the place. It was several stories, too many windows high for Taehyung to even bother counting as he squinted at them from the circular drive where the car had left them. Despite the somewhat inclement and fickle nature of Massachusetts weather, it remained pristine, windows shining in the greyish light from the sun, a few accompanied by balconies. Every inch of the grass rolling about him and its foliage was meticulously well-kept and an almost impossible shade of emerald.

As he stood gaping like a floundering fish, Namjoon swept by him with all the ease of those days in the coffee shop. It took him several feet to realize Taehyung wasn’t immediately behind him, turning to give him a roll of his eyes and amused scoff when he did.

“Taehyung, it’s far more impressive on the inside, I assure you. Or would you rather continue to stand on the lawn staring into people’s windows like a pervert?” No need to mention that the thought would probably thrill some of them. The red-haired boy’s eyes snapped to meet his, blinking and looking as if he’d forgotten why they were there. Then the light of recognition flooded those wide brown eyes, and he nearly tripped across his own feet in his haste to catch up.

“S-sorry, sorry!” He floundered, keeping close to Namjoon as they ascended the steps to the equally impressive oak front door. Or was it mahogany? Honestly Tae didn’t know the first thing about woods, and he had no clue why he was even trying to guess. All he needed to know was it must have been both heavy and expensive. At least, that was his guess from the way the doors so slowly opened on white-gloved servants carefully pulling at the handles after Namjoon knocked. And then his jaw hit the floor again (a feeling he would become quite accustomed to throughout the day).

Namjoon hadn’t been lying when he said the interior was more impressive than the exterior (not that Tae had expected deceit from him). From what could be seen of the entrance hall, it was clear no expense had been spared on this place. The floor leading to the stairs was entirely monochrome tiles so pristine and shiny Taehyung could see his fiery locks and most of his facial features in them. The staircase itself was a grand twisting affair, like one would see in movies about high brow society, dark wood that matched the doors making up both the steps and banisters. On either side, more doors led to places Taehyung could only imagine.

“Mr. Kim,” a low voice intoned from somewhere to their left. Taehyung’s eyes found a sharply dressed young man bowing to Namjoon, and Taehyung felt his eyebrow rising into his hairline. Just who was Namjoon to these people? “Please come this way.”

Once again, Taehyung stuck close to Namjoon, head practically on a swivel as they were guided through the door to the left of the staircase and into the hallway beyond. He couldn’t keep his gaze locked on anything for more than a few seconds, tracing a path between the lush carpet, ornate wallpapers and other ornaments as they walked.

In his distraction, he nearly collided with the unexpected expanse of Namjoon’s back when the young man guiding them stopped next to a new door that was smaller but just as ornate as the front entry. With another small bow, he pulled it open and ushered Namjoon and his unwitting companion inside. Taehyung was surprised to find a somewhat simple sitting room awaiting them, decorated in deep scarlets and brocade, but in a way that managed to seem understated. There was minimal furniture, so he found himself sliding into the spot next to Namjoon on a settee facing the massive red curtain draped across the far wall.

They didn’t wait long before the door opened once more and a woman strode in, looking fierce and entirely like she meant business, despite the shortness of her skirt and the kitten heels on her feet that Tae would almost dare to rename “hooker” if he didn’t value his life. The look on her face as her eyes slid over Taehyung was unreadable and it made him nervous. She situated herself in an adjacent chair before finally cracking a small, polite smile, and speaking.

“Kim Taehyung, I presume?” He nodded fervently, not yet trusting his voice to speak. The tilt of her lips widened into a proper smile of assurance and relief swept through him. “Welcome to The Brass Wolf. My name is Lee Chaerin, and I am one of the Madams of this establishment. We’re very excited to have you join us.” It was then he took notice of the clipboard balanced across her knees as her slim fingers shuffled through some of the attached pages. When she looked back up at him, the friendly smile was gone.

“I expect the nature of our establishment has been explained to you?” The question brought a swirl of emotions into Taehyung’s stomach, but he swallowed them down to nod. Namjoon had been very clear about what he was getting into, and how important it was for him to understand what he was consenting to. Though this had never been something he would have considered in the past, he had made up his mind about it now. “Excellent. Has Mr. Kim also made you aware of how we select our staff, and the testing and processes involved?” Another nod, this one without the shy tint of red to Taehyung’s caramel cheeks, and a confidence he was slowly building. She nodded in return, scribbling something down. He just hoped it was good.

“Then we will make preparations for your testing immediately. Ha Jin will show you to the waiting room, Taehyung. Mr. Kim, would you please remain with me for a moment?” Her tone was so dismissive that it left no room for questions that could assuage the sudden nerves threatening to choke Taehyung. So instead of trying to voice any of them, he rose from the couch and turned to leave. And for the first time, he allowed himself to wonder just what he had signed up for.

When the door had closed behind Taehyung, Chaerin’s eyes snapped to meet Namjoon’s. They rested comfortably across from each other, each as if they owned the space. After another minute of silence, she finally spoke again.

“I was beginning to think you’d forgotten us, Mr. Kim,” she teased, and he barked a laugh in return.

“Not just yet, Chaerin,” he assured with a shake of his head. “Just been busy.” Her eyes landed on the door Taehyung and Ha Jin had exited from.

“I can see that,” she murmured. The slight curls of her silver hair danced across her shoulders as she shook her head quickly before rising from the plush embrace of her chair. “You know the drill by now. I’ll go inform Hye Jin that we’re ready for him, but if you’d like you can go ahead and meet the others. I’m sure they’ll be very intrigued to see you there as a Sponsor this time.” He offered her only a small nod, waiting a moment after she’d left before standing from his own seat to exit the room.

* * *

The moment Namjoon stepped into the room, all eyes were on him.

He had expected to see Seokjin and Yoongi, of course. Two of The Brass Wolf’s most notable members couldn’t be caught missing the night Kim Namjoon finally returned, and as a Sponsor no less. The other three faces, however, were not so anticipated.

On a couch against one wall sat Park Bom and Choi Seunghyun. Two of the establishment’s most elite contributors and members. It was also said that Bom was the one who helped Chaerin rise to her position as Madam, but of course that was only a rumor based on the apparent closeness of their relationship. Seunghyun was more of an enigma. Always sharply dressed, typically more reserved, but apparently a very well-paying client, albeit extremely selective.

In the chair closest to himself and the door was Lee Seunghwa. Reserved, sophisticated, trendsetting Lee Seunghwa, a musical millionaire, and highly well-respected. He was rarely seen at Testings, however, a far more private person than even Yoongi was.

“Well, well, Kim Namjoon returns. Quite the prodigal son, aren’t we?” Jin remarked as he took another sip of his wine, gesturing to the open seat beside him. Namjoon rolled his eyes.

“Don’t try to be cute Seokjin. That only works on Jimin,” he retorted and the other blonde looked miffed.

“You underestimate my abilities, Namjoon.” Yoongi rolled his eyes.

“Shut up both of you, it’s time.” The quarreling pair snapped to attention as the door Namjoon had entered through opened once again, revealing Chaerin. She looked even more business-like than she had earlier as she came to stand in front of the window dominating the wall before them. When it was clear she had everyone’s attention, she spoke again.

“Thank you all of you for coming. We are gathered here tonight for the Testing of Kim Taehyung’s abilities.” There was a round of polite nods. “I trust you all know how this works, but I’ll reiterate anyway. From this room, you will observe Kim Taehyung, and when his time is done, you will be allowed to vote on whether or not you think he is qualified to join our staff. Since he is joining us this time as Taehyung’s Sponsor, and not a Judge, Kim Namjoon will not be allowed a vote. He will, however, have the opportunity to make a case for Taehyung if there is any need to change your minds. Are we ready?” Murmurs of assent sounded in the room and Chaerin nodded, pressing a button next to the mirror to activate it.

Namjoon took a quiet breath in and out, fixing his eyes on the room beyond the window.

He prayed he had made the right choice.

* * *

 Taehyung allowed himself a quiet breath in and then out again as he followed the woman calling herself Hwasa into the room.

“Just do whatever feels natural, don’t worry about anything else, alright?” She instructed with a smile. It was probably meant to be reassuring, but Taehyung was far too nervous to feel anything else.

“Alright,” he mumbled, and Hwasa disappeared. Alone now, he stepped up to the bed in the center, upon which sat a girl with honey brown hair and a welcoming smile.

“I’m Wheein,” she told him quietly, offering a hand to pull him closer. Her touch was gentle, warm, and so far the most comforting thing Taehyung had encountered since his arrival.

“Taehyung,” he whispered back. She smiled a little wider, and leaned up until her lips brushed his ear.

“Alright Taehyung. Follow my lead, okay?” When he had nodded his assent, her fingers ran down his torso to the hem of his shirt, tugging insistently against it. He raised his arms almost mechanically so she could remove it. He felt more than saw her gaze drop to admire the expanse of caramel skin that had hidden beneath, her hands once again tracing his torso appreciatively.

“You’re very beautiful Taehyung, you know that?” She murmured. He offered her a small smile hesitantly resting his hands against her hips.

“So are you,” he said quietly and she giggled.

“Jeez, you’re so stiff. Let’s help you relax, shall we?” From behind her, she pulled a length of silken material, running it through her fingers, and Taehyung felt his pulse leap into his throat at the sight. Wheein smiled again, running one hand across his cheek, keeping his eyes on hers. “Just relax, okay?” He nodded mutely.

Wheein leaned closer and then suddenly disappeared as Taehyung’s vision went dark. For a moment his heart stopped and he wondered just what had happened. Then his mind registered the sensation of silk against skin and the feeling of something tightening around his head. _She had blindfolded him._

With his sight gone, Taehyung sat still on the bed, unsure. He could feel the mattress dip and shift as Wheein moved about him, could hear the sheets stir with her movements. But that didn’t prepare him for the warm, wet sensation of her tongue sliding from beneath his ear down to his neck, or her hands wrapping around his triceps. His breathing skipped a beat as she continued to the hollow of his throat, lathing across the column of flesh to his pulse. Feeling his chest rising and falling rapidly beneath her own, Wheein chuckled against him.

“It’s alright. I won’t do anything you don’t like. Just tell me if it’s too much, okay?” He nodded again, and she ran her mouth up to meet his, pressing their lips together gently. The soft but insistent feeling made Taehyung’s mind go blank, losing himself in the feeling. (Jeez, how long had it been since he’d been laid?) He pressed back, strengthening the kiss and forcing her to bend beneath him until he felt the fabric of the sheets beneath his elbows.

It was she who pulled back, perhaps because she wasn’t sure Taehyung would be able to move too far with the blindfold still concealing his vision. Her fingers raked across his chest again, making Taehyung gasp at the way the feeling was heightened without him being able to see it. They stopped at his waistband, slipping just beneath to run along his hips, pausing with them so dangerously close to his-

“Keep going,” he said, somewhere between a keen and a groan. He wasn’t sure when he’d become so turned on by the situation, but there was no stopping the way his erection was growing in his pants.

“Are you sure?” She asked quietly. Any other time he would’ve appreciated her politeness, but now he was definitely not in the mood.

“Fuck- _yes_ ,” he answered and she giggled beneath him before sliding her hands down, taking the fabric with them. The slightly colder air of the room wrapped around his hardening member, and the contrast set pleasant chills crawling across his skin.

Wheein didn’t hesitate this time in drawing her fingers around to his front, trailing them along his thighs as she leaned up to swipe her tongue along his collarbone. She smiled against his skin when his muscles twitched beneath her touch, becoming more insistent as her mouth moved again down his chest, pausing as her breath washed over his right nipple.

“Feeling better now, are we?” she asked quietly, and he didn’t have to see her face to know she was grinning. A soft grunt at the back of his throat was his only response, the sound morphing to a gasp as her mouth closed around the pert flesh. One of the hands ran across the planes of his stomach and up to join her mouth, pinching at his unattended nipple and twisting to draw a moan from his lips. Her tongue danced across the other, send shocks of arousal straight to his shaft.

“Wheein,” he managed around the shallow breaths his lungs continued to draw, “please.” She pulled her mouth and hands away slowly and for a second he wondered if she’d managed to slide out from under him and disappear. But a second later her hand wrapped around his dick, and her lips were by his ear again.

“Use your words, Taehyung,” she teased, voice soft and all too alluring in his ear. He groaned as she tightened her grip and began to move painfully slowly along his length. “What do you want?”

“K-keep doing that, please,” he begged without a second thought. She moved faster at his plea, thumb running across his head to make him moan again. God, her hand was so much softer than his. The thought alone made another surge of arousal rush through him, making him twitch in her grasp.

“Is this all you want?” Her voice broke through the fog settling over his mind, her hold shifting along his skin again as if to gain his attention. “To just fuck my hand and be done with it?” His mind raced as her words sank in, trying to comprehend them around the feeling of her swiping the precum from his tip and using it to slide her hand down him again.

“N-No,” he choked out, and she paused.

“Then what do you want?” There was a moment of silence between them, and then Taehyung’s hands were moving carefully along the sheets beneath them until the met skin. Continuing their slow path across the smooth expanse, his fingers found her collarbone, and he leaned down to carefully lick a stripe across the bone. She hummed beneath his touch, the sound turning to a quiet keen as his hands moved down her torso, over the soft curves of her breasts still covered in the thin lace of lingerie she must have been wearing when he came in. The lace turned to smooth satin as he crossed her stomach, the fabric shifting beneath his touch to reveal more skin to his eager fingers. He could tell he was close when her breath hitched and he found another thin strip of lace and followed it to her hipbones.

Moving slightly quicker now, he slid his fingers beneath the band of her underwear, and tugged the material down as far as he could manage without his sight. Satisfied the obstacle was out of his way, he slid his hands along her thighs until his fingertips brushed her folds and she let out the most heavenly moan that has his cock throbbing painfully. He was delighted to discover she was nearly as aroused as he was, already slick beneath his touch.

“ _God,_ ” he murmured and she lifted her hips closer, pressing into his hand. He ran his free hand down his own stomach to the hot, needy length of his cock. He shifted on his knees, maneuvering himself to where his other hand rested against her core, sliding easily into her. They both moaned as he pushed himself fully within her, the sensation of her wrapping tight around him nearly wiping coherent thought from his brain.

After a few moments for him to collect himself, and when Wheein’s breath had calmed down, he began moving, hands finding grip on the sheets at her sides. The languid back and forth of his hips against hers didn’t last long, however, and Taehyung soon found himself thrusting rapidly. When she only moaned in pleasure rather than objecting, he continued, feeling the coils of pleasure tightening below his stomach. Chasing the high, and egged on by Wheein’s attempts to meet his hips with her own, he moved faster still, the pace almost punishing.

“T-Taehyung,” she gasped, and he groaned in reply. “I-I’m…” Her words disappeared in another cry as he thrusted again and the added angle of her lower half rising again caused him to hit her spot. Feeling her clench around him as she came, Taehyung felt his own orgasm wash through him, his moan mingling with hers as his nerves sang with pleasure.

* * *

 Unseen on the other side of the one-way glass, Namjoon and the Judges watched a blindfolded Taehyung and keening Wheein reach their high. Despite the erotic scene unfolding before them, the small group had kept their expressions in variations of calm and indifferent. Chaerin rose from her place at the back of the room when it was clear the pair was done.

“Do we need time to deliberate, or are we ready to vote?” she asked the small crowd. Glances cast about before Bom spoke up from her spot next to Seunghyun.

“I think we can vote now, Chaerin.” The Madam nodded.

“Alright. Those not in favor of bringing Kim Taehyung into The Brass Wolf?” Silence reigned for a moment and Namjoon held his breath, eyes scanning the room.

No hands.

“Those in favor?” Namjoon allowed himself to breathe a sigh of relief when he saw the hands of all the Judges but one rise. He was not surprised in the least to find it was Yoongi who had abstained from voting at all. Bastard was known for being ridiculously picky.

“Well then, it’s decided. The Brass Wolf welcomes Kim Taehyung.”


	2. Welcomed

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops this chapter is a little shorter than the last one, but I hope that the increased steamy bits make up for that somewhat.
> 
> Also, this is not proofread this time around, because I was too excited to get it posted for you guys, so sorry about that in advance. I'll probably go back through it later as I'm actually super anal about that stuff, I just didn't have time. xP
> 
> This chapter dedicated in part to dirtyretro. I hope this helps give your lil gay heart some satisfaction, love~ ;)
> 
> Anyhow, I hope you guys enjoy~!

The vast window which had just minutes ago framed the scene of Taehyung’s Test cast the only light left in the room, a large rectangular patch that caught the lush cream of the carpet, and several cushioned armchairs wrapped in embroidered fabric. Just outside its border, Chaerin stood silent, contemplative, in front of the couch that Bom and Seunghyun had occupied not so long previous. Her eyes raked over the bedroom seen through the glass, its only decor a massive and ornate bed swathed in silks and Egyptian cotton. She could still remember her own Test that had taken place on sheets not so different from those. Though at this point there was no way the two sets were the same.

But the past was not where she wanted to be dwelling. With a shake of her silvery waves, she swept out of the room, nearly crashing into Hyejin, who had apparently been hovering about outside. Hand pressed to her heart, Chaerin shot the other woman a disparaging look. Hyejin just grinned, a farce meant to resemble apology. Chaerin snorted.

“You shouldn’t hang around doors like that, Hyejin. It’ll get you in trouble one of these days.” The younger woman rolled her eyes and followed Chaerin’s long strides down the hall.

“So, Kim Namjoon is finally back. And as a Sponsor, no less.” The commentary was meant to deter Chaerin from reprimanding further, and though she knew it, she took the bait and nodded.

“It seem so.”

“All these years and he’s never Sponsored anyone. I wonder what he sees in Taehyung,” she mused, earning a shrug from the other woman in response.

“It isn’t our business to know. The only important thing is he made the right selection. Taehyung is now one of us thanks to Namjoon.” She glanced at her companion before halting at the door to the elevator. “Speaking of Taehyung, his paperwork will need sorting. Could you please show him to his new residence while I do so?” Hyejin sighed, but nodded all the same.

“Fine. You’re no fun, CL.” A glare was aimed her way for the use of the nickname.

“I’ve told you not to call me that anymore!” Chaerin scolded, but it was half-hearted, like they’d had this argument many times (they had), and she knew what Hyejin’s response would be (she did).

“And  _ I  _ have told you to call me Hwasa here, but you never listen,” she retorted, hands balanced childishly at her hips. Chaerin tsked and pressed the up button for the elevator.

“Look, Hyejin, will you please just-”

“Alright, alright I’m going! I’ll tell him to come see you when he’s settled.” Chaerin watched her practically saunter away and sighed before stepping through the open elevator doors that would take her to her office.

* * *

 

Faint lights refracted and created shapes that danced across the golden and cream walls, their silhouettes playing with the shadows on the carved surface. One in particular, that of a man, could be seen moving with the ripples of light as he braced himself against the pool’s edge.

The aquamarine waters barely licked above his hip bones, leaving the creamy expanses of his upper body in plain view. Most notable were the wonderfully broad shoulders he had hunched over to absorb the force of the thrusts coming from behind him. Arms lanky but still clearly defined in muscle framed his hung head as they reached beyond him toward the wall.

“You should’ve seen him Jimin -  _ fuck.  _ One second timid l-like a m-mouse -  _ god yes, do that again  _ \- and a dominant lion the next. It was -  _ gasp  _ \- magical.” As the words spilled past the man’s plush pink lips, swollen and reddening from being bitten down on, the movements behind him slowed, then halted altogether. A low whine escaped him, and  his head whipped up and around to glare at the sunset-haired young man. “Jimin, what the fuck!”

“Seriously? You-” he barked a laugh and crossed his arms as he stared the other man down. “Do you even realize how much you’ve been talking about him? It’s like I might as well be in here with him instead of you. But I don’t want to fuck him,” Jimin leaned closer, letting the other feel the heat of Jimin’s chest against his back, one hand reaching around the man’s hips to run his fingers around his submerged cock, “I want to fuck  _ you _ .”

The low lights made new shadows as the first man’s features softened. He reached out with one hand to cup Jimin’s cheek, and for a moment the younger of the two was graced with a gentle smile that made Jimin’s heart warm. He leaned into the touch, allowing a small smile to materialize on his own mouth. Then, the older man’s face shifted into a condescending smirk and Jimin’s stomach and smile dropped like stones into the pool lapping at his navel. And yet a thrill trailed slither slow down his spine before coiling hot and heavy in his abdomen. He knew that look all too well.

“Uh oh… Is our Jiminie jealous?” The older of them taunted, voice low and husky and making Jimin’s nerves tingle with anxious excitement. “Is he afraid someone’s gonna take his place as Jin’s favorite little cockslut?” Though the water was a pleasant temperature, Jimin still felt too hot, the water doing nothing to ease the heated pumping of blood straight to his groin. Jin’s smirk grew as he watched the way Jimin’s pupils dilated and his breathing hastened. He dipped one hand below the water and ran it slowly down Jimin’s length, making the younger gasp.

“Or maybe you like the idea of having to compete for my attention? Of being forced to beg for my cock like the little whore you are?” A whine escaped Jimin and he rutted up into Jin’s hand.

“J-Jin… Please…” No sooner had the shaky words left his lips than Jin’s hand disappeared, rising out of the waters to be tucked into the elder’s crossed arms as he frowned at Jimin.  _ Shit. _

“What did you just call me?” His voice was dark, dangerous, and Jimin couldn’t help the nervous swallow the pulsed in his throat.

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-” Jin’s glower silenced him as the older male leaned in closer, capturing Jimin’s gaze in his own.

“What are you supposed to call me?” Jimin swallowed again, lips parting as he floundered for the words to placate him.

“Y-Your Highness…” Jimin answered softly, eyes finally dropping from Jin’s commanding stare. But the latter clasped Jimin’s face between his fingers, still dripping water that filled Jimin’s nose with the stinging chemical scent of chlorine. Jin jerked his chin up, staring him down once more, the heat making Jimin’s insides roil.

“That’s right. Servants ought to pay their betters the respect they deserve, don’t you think?” Jimin did his best to nod despite Jin’s strong grip on his jaw.

“Of course, Your Highness! My apologies, it won’t happen again.” The words spilled out in a rush past Jimin’s lips, desperate to pacify his better and perhaps finally get some relief for the painful hardness of his arousal. Jin smirked, seeming pleased with Jimin’s plaintive apologies.

“It better not. Now, why don’t you make yourself useful and help make up for that disrespect.” He jabbed a finger towards a slightly shallower section of the pool. “Over there on your knees, servant. You know what comes next.” Jimin hurried to get into position despite the way the water around his legs impeded his movement. Dropping to his knees, he was careful to tilt his head back to keep his chin just above the water’s surface. He tried to calm his breathing as he watched Jin make his way to him. When the older man was before him, Jimin looked up at him.

“I await your instructions, Your Highness. Just tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it, I swear.” Jin smiled and ran one hand down the side of Jimin’s face, fingers dancing beneath his chin to tilt it back just a bit more.

“I know you will, because you live to serve me, correct?” Jimin nodded. Jin gestured to his own hard length that rested just above the water, at the perfect level with Jimin’s mouth. “Then what are you waiting for? The best servant always knows what his prince needs without being told.” So Jimin dropped his jaw and leaned forward, taking the throbbing length into his mouth, making Jin let out a low groan at the way Jimin’s lips wrapped around him.

Jimin worked his tongue and mouth around Jin’s cock, taking extra care do the things he knew Jin loved, that left the older a gasping, moaning mess. He was determined to prove to Jin that he could be the best, that even this  _ Kim Taehyung _ would have nothing on him.

* * *

 

An abrupt sneeze erupted in the hallway that had Hyejin turning to stare at the boy behind her with wide eyes and raised brows. Taehyung offered her a sheepish smile and sniffed.

“Sorry,” he said quietly and Hyejin laughed.

“It’s alright. Anyway, as I was saying, everything you could need will be provided by The Brass Wolf and its staff. You will have your own living space, separate from the rooms used to take clients. You are permitted to have guests, but we strongly advise receiving outside individuals in one of our many available spaces. The work we do can be very taxing both physically and emotionally, and The Brass Wolf believes it very important for all employees to have their own place to recover.” The muted sound of her heels against the floorboards ceased outside a simple door with a brass plate nailed to it, the number 27 engraved upon it. Hwasa turned to Taehyung, a key ring around one finger. “These will be your rooms.”

“Rooms?” Taehyung echoed, seemingly perplexed by the phrasing. Hwasa nodded.

“It's really more of an elaborate suite. You'll have your own bedroom, bathroom, sitting room - all of it. Even a kitchen, if you would rather eat on your own than take part in the meals provided.” When he still looked a little dubious, she nodded again, the gesture seeming this time to indicate a sort of determination. “It's better if I just show you honestly.” So she stuck the key into the lock and pushed the door open. For the hundredth time that day, it felt like, Tae’s jaw dropped.

The “suite” Hwasa had described seemed to do little justice to what lay beyond. The entryway and associated sitting room were more than spacious, with doors just like the one she was closing behind him marking entry to other rooms. A few hesitant steps forward and then he was turning to look at Hwasa, eyes wide in amazement.

“Is this for real?” Her chuckle rang through the space and Taehyung decided he could really like this woman. Maybe this place would be easier to handle with her around.

“Yes, all of this is yours.” Her gaze lighted on something beyond him and her lips dropped into an ‘o’ as if she’d suddenly recalled something. “Ah yes, your things have already been brought over from Boston as well, so that ought to help you settle in.” The amazement turned to surprised confusion but Taehyung’s eyes remained saucer wide.

“What? I didn't bring anything with me though…”

“Namjoon had them sent for, of course. That's fairly common for Sponsors though.” Taehyung’s brows furrowed.

“You guys keep calling him that, but I still don't know what that means. He never explained that part to me.” Hwasa sighed.

“Of course he didn't. The only important things to know are that your Sponsor is the one who chooses you and advocates for you to join us. Generally they also tend to things like this, or sometimes help introduce you to clients. They are your guide through some of the more political or bureaucratic aspects of life at The Brass Wolf, working behind the scenes to ensure you remain secure and happy here.”

“That… Makes sense I guess,” Taehyung mumbled, and Hwasa offered him a comforting smile.

“I wouldn't worry about it too much. Just know that if you need something Chaerin or I can't provide or you aren't sure you can tell us, Namjoon is there to help you,” she assured. Taehyung gave a final nod. “Excellent! With that settled, go ahead and take your time making yourself at home. You won't start work until after the appropriate paperwork has been filled out and completed, but don't worry about that for now. If you'd like to take part in meals here, dinner will be at six pm, breakfast begins at 8am, and lunch is from noon to four. Anything else don't hesitate to ask Chaerin or myself, our rooms are on speed dial on the telephone or you can find us on the sixth floor. We really hope you'll enjoy your stay with us, Taehyung.”

“Thank you,” he said, and meant it. There was still a lot to take in, but Hwasa’s easygoing assurance had done a lot to ease his worries for the time being.

“Of course darling.” She turned back to the door for a moment before whirling around again, manicured finger pointing back at Taehyung. “CL did ask that you come see her in her office when you have some time. It'll be best to begin the paperwork processes as soon as possible.” He nodded and she gave him one last sunny grin before leaving him stunned in the entry, and entirely too alone with his thoughts.

* * *

 

With an earth-shaking sigh, Hwasa hooked her fingers in the backs of her heels and chucked the offending shoes into an unseen corner of the room. She made a mental note to retrieve them later before collapsing onto the couch.

There was a muffled sound of footsteps and then one of the doors opened into the lounge, revealing Wheein, hair in a ponytail and having donned a pair of shorts and oversized shirt that were in stark contrast with the silk and lace she’d had during Taehyung’s Test. She slipped gracefully into the room and settled on the couch next to Hwasa. Laying her head on her arms on the couch cushions, she stared at other woman quietly for a moment.

“You know you're not technically supposed to be in here,” Hwasa said after a moment, sounding anything but scolding.

“And you're not technically supposed to have made or given me an extra key. But what else am I supposed to do with it?” Hwasa’s eyes opened to see Wheein grinning at her teasingly and she couldn't help her own smile that sprouted in return. She shifted closer to the shorter female and slipped an arm about her waist, tugging her closer.

“Touché, darling.” An affectionate kiss graced Wheein’s temple as the Madam ran her free hand comfortingly down Wheein’s arm. “How are you feeling? He wasn't too rough was he?” Wheein rolled her eyes but leaned her cheek onto Hwasa’s shoulder.

“I'm fine. The boy hardly touched me after all. He's quite the gentleman.” She pressed a kiss into the side of Hwasa’s neck, quietly breathing in the faint traces of her perfume. “But I'm fine. Really. I'm just happy you're back.” Hwasa’s smile turned gently, her hand sliding from Wheein’s arm to rest on her hip before resuming its soothing tracing of the petite woman’s form.

“Good.” The smile turned devilish. “So you have it in you to help me unwind a little?” Wheein chuckled, already nosing along Hwasa’s neck, fingers tracing her smooth skin to hook on the necklace resting just below her collarbones.

“More than a little, if that's what you want.”

“Even better.” Her hand stopped on Wheein’s hip once more, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of her shirt to slide the material up, up, up until Wheein had to pull away from the blossom of purple-red she’d been working into Hwasa’s neck and remove the offending article altogether. Hwasa couldn’t help the way her eyes dropped to the bare curves of Wheein’s chest, fingers running up her sides to cup the other woman’s breasts. She could  _ feel  _ the way her breath hitched beneath Hwasa’s touch. Leaning even closer, she brushed her lips up the arching column of Wheein’s neck to her ear.

“Are you really that desperate to be touched, love? Did Taehyung not take proper care of you today?” She purred into the panting woman’s ear. Unable to speak around the breaths raspily clawing their way from her throat, Wheein tugged at Hwasa’s blouse, fumbling at the buttons. Removing one hand from where it was gently massaging Wheein’s chest, she pulled the timid fingers from the fabric. “Let me.”

Wheein’s eyes opened again as Hwasa pulled away, watching unabashedly as the blouse she’d been trying to force off disappeared onto the floor some distance away. Before she could tug her in for a kiss or the touch she was so desperately craving, Hwasa was shedding her skirt as well, tugging whatever panties she’d been wearing - if any - down her full thighs as well. If Wheein weren’t so practiced at containing herself in moments like these, she would probably have been drooling at the sight. As it was, she could feel her own underwear growing increasingly wet as Hwasa continued her little strip tease by turning slightly to the side to run her hands up her own body. When her fingers reached the wire of her bra, she ran them around the outside, and up to the straps, tugging them slowly down her shoulders and letting them rest there before she finally flicked the clasp apart, letting the lace and wire contraption fall to her lap. Now fully bare, she offered Wheein a smirk and turned to face her as she leaned against one arm of the couch and beckoned her closer.

“Don't just sit there staring. Come here baby, and make yourself useful,” she purred. Swallowing down the heart that had jumped to her throat, Wheein jumped to obey, moving gracefully to settle into the inviting space between Hwasa’s thighs. Fingers slid beneath her chin, tilting it up so Hwasa could press a slow, sensual kiss into her lips that made Wheein’s insides turn to jello. “You said you'd help me unwind, remember?”

“I remember,” she whispered into the patch of skin on Hwasa’s neck she’d been sucking a mark into. She could almost feel the other woman’s Dom tendencies beginning to leak into her words. And she wasn't opposed, not in the least, to when Hwasa became dominant, but she knew it was just as tiring for her to command as it was for Wheein to obey, so why let her bother when the shorter girl was so eager to bring Hwasa the relaxation she sought?

Oh right, because they both fucking  _ loved it. _

“Then be good for me baby girl and help me relax.” This time the words were less a sultry suggestion, holding an edge of command that told Wheein Hwasa was more turned on than she was showing. So she obeyed without saying a word in acquiescence, opting to run her hands across Hwasa’s hips as an acknowledgement of the other woman’s desires. She left one settled on her hip while the other began to lightly massage Hwasa’s luscious thighs, morning softly at the feeling of her body beneath Wheein’s fingertips. This time it was she who leaned up to press a hungry kiss against the Madam’s mouth, the hand on her leg kneading the soft skin of her inner thigh with increased vigor.

When she pulled back for air, Wheein was delighted to see Hwasa as flushed and breathless as she was, breath stuttering as Wheein’s fingers slipped lower toward the apex of her legs, where her dripping core waited. A low whine replaced her moans as Wheein teased at her entrance, fingertips gliding easily about her folds with the wetness gathered there, but never giving her quite enough contact for any sort of satisfaction.

“Wh-Wheein, sweetie, stop teasing,” she groaned, hips jolting forward as Wheein’s fingers danced across her once more but didn't linger.

“But it's no fun if I end it quickly, is it?” Wheein hummed against the skin along Hwasa’s collarbones, warm breath dancing across her breasts and causing her to shiver. Before Hwasa could complain further, two of Wheein’s slick fingers slid past her folds and pushed themselves into her.

Back arching and hips jutting into the contact for more friction, Hwasa gasped out a moan at the sensation. Just when she was about to beg the other woman to move, she felt Wheein’s fingers begin to slide back and forth, in and out. Her pace was slow, languid, allowing Hwasa to feel every inch of skin lathing against her walls.

“Feel good?” Wheein breathed, hot breath dancing deliciously across the shell of Hwasa’s ear. The woman wantonly tilting her hips into Wheein’s hand groaned a tortured affirmative and Wheein began moving just a bit faster. She scissored her fingers a few times, stretching her out just a bit before adding her other two fingers in.

“Oh  _ god _ ,” Hwasa groaned as she felt Wheein’s slim digits fill her and begin moving swiftly inside her. With each stroke, Hwasa could feel herself teetering ever closer to the edge, hips moving wildly in search of added friction.

Then suddenly, Wheein pulled out and Hwasa almost cried for the loss of feeling. Not providing any explanation, Wheein slid further down her body, settling with her face level with Hwasa’s mound. Her eyes shot up to meet those of the panting, wrecked woman beneath her before her tongue slipped between her lips and darted across Hwasa’s clit.

“Oh sweet  _ JE-sus  _ do that again!” Wheein obliged, tongue flicking at the bundle of nerves and reducing Hwasa’s words to senseless moans and groans.

Then Wheein’s tongue darted into her and Hwasa nearly screamed at the feeling. It was all she could do to not jam her hips into Wheein’s face and force her tongue as far into as her as she could get it.  _ God  _ she was so close, if she could just…

“ _ Oh! _ ” And there it was. With a twist of her tongue, Wheein had hit that spot that had Hwasa moaning her name in the manner of a broken record, interspersed with moans, whimpers and  _ so fucking close god baby I'm so OH GOD. _

And then her eyes fluttered shut as the hot coil in her abdomen snapped, and Hwasa swore to every deity she knew that she saw stars.

* * *

 

The door, like all those he’d seen at The Brass Wolf so far, was impressive - polished dark wood and intimidating beneath Taehyung’s fist as he knocked. For several pounding heartbeats where no answer came, he debated leaving and coming back later when his stomach wasn’t trying so desperately to make knots out of itself and the rest of his internal organs. But before he could move, a voice bade him enter, and he was moving unthinkingly through the now open door.

He shouldn’t have been surprised that Chaerin’s office was decorated much like the other rooms he’d been ushered in and out of that day. Warm, rich colors dominated the space, walls and ceilings a dark shade of rosewood red. Rather than the curtains or decorations of some rooms, her walls were lined with shelves stuffed with books and files. Against the wall opposite, the Madam sat in a chair of fine brown leather examining the swarm of papers scattered across her ornate desk. Before it, and closest to where Taehyung stood quietly taking in the scene, a face he hadn’t been expecting lounged in one of the chairs clearly meant for visitors.

Chaerin gestured for him to come closer, and Taehyung could feel Namjoon’s eyes following his movements as he settled into the empty chair next to the older man.

“Thank you for coming, Taehyung. It’s always best to get these things taken care of as quickly as possible.” Her voice was warm, but still held the same down-to-business demeanor he’d encountered earlier.

“Right,” he murmured back, casting a sideways glance at Namjoon, but the blonde was looking elsewhere, almost as if he was determined to ignore Taehyung’s gaze.

“Let’s get this done please, Chaerin,” Namjoon intoned, boredom evident in both his tone and the way he glanced at his watch. It was like Taehyung was watching someone else in the body of the teasing genius he’d come to know. And it left him with a strange, unsettled feeling. Were Sponsors always supposed to act like this? Had Namjoon’s behavior until now all been some crazy play to get Taehyung to come here? And if it was, why in the hell would he have been so desperate to convince him to do it? As Taehyung battled with his storming thoughts, Chaerin nodded and pulled a sheaf of papers from one side of the desk. She laid one set in front of the two men before beginning to flip through the one in her hands.

“The following contract is a standard employment agreement for entry level employees of The Brass Wolf. Within its contents you will find the details of your wages, duties, benefits, and the like, all of which will be discussed in a moment. You may notice that it is a fair bit longer than a typical company’s contract. This is of course because there are many services offered by our establishment that we require full written consent for, in order to ensure the safety of yourself and our clients, in all senses.” Taehyung’s eyes dropped to the rather large stack of paper Namjoon had taken into his hands and was now leafing through with practiced fingers. He wondered briefly how many times he had done this, or its like.

“Mr. Kim, will you be having your legal team look this over before we have Taehyung fill it out?” Startled, Taehyung’s eyes shifted first to Namjoon, then to Chaerin, and back once more before settling on the former.

“Why would he need to do that?” Taehyung wondered.

“As your Sponsor, it is part of my job to make sure that everything written in this appropriately ensures your safety, well-being, and standard of living. I’m assuming you don’t have a lawyer of your own to tell you whether or not something is shady about this, right?” Taehyung tries not to feel miffed about the underlying jab at his social and financial standing, but knows Namjoon is just stating the obvious. He’s a Boston College graduate with several dozen of thousands of dollars in debt and God knows that his barely-above-minimum-wage coffee shop was not doing him any favors in that department. When these thoughts lead Taehyung to nod abashedly in answer to Namjoon’s question, the blonde finally offers him a small smile, and the soothing stroke of fingers across the back of his hand on the armrest of the chair. “Don’t worry, that’s why I’m here. To help you. Alright?” Taehyung nods again and Namjoon turns back to the hefty contract and Chaerin, but leaves his fingers resting on Taehyung’s, which the younger greatly appreciates.

After a few moments of silence where Namjoon pores over the legal jargon about Taehyung’s new life that the fiery-haired boy attempts to understand (and fails) over his shoulder, Namjoon confirms that they will not in fact require the use of his legal team, who Taehyung is now very curious about. He asks a few questions about things like taxes and 401ks and vacation accrual that go over Taehyung’s head (they don’t exactly teach you those things in art school), before he brings up something that piques his interest.

“Chaerin, could you perhaps clarify this section?” The silvery-haired dame looks up from her own paperwork to glance at them.

“Which section would that be?”

“The one about relationships outside the establishment. On page twenty-eight.” The sound of paper shuffling distracts Taehyung from his confusion about what’s transpiring, and he watches Chaerin scan the page before nodding.

“Ah yes, allow me to explain. While The Brass Wolf does not forbid its employees from having committed relationships, we do strongly advise against it. The work we do here does, within the boundaries of the contract, require employees to have relations with people outside their significant other, sometimes many times over. It has come in between many employees and their lovers numerous times, to the point that we revised standard contracts to include this section as a warning.” Taehyung’s heart dropped to his stomach. In the time since he’d left school, love and relationships hadn’t even crossed his mind. He hadn’t had time to consider it in college, and had barely had money to spend on himself, let alone a date, afterward. But he had always liked having the option available, and now it seemed to be disappearing right in front of him.

“The Brass Wolf does, however, forbid relationships between employees and clients.” That got his attention again, and he looked up to find Chaerin staring at him, gaze serious. “If an employee wishes to become committed to a client in a full relationship, we ask that they leave our employ to do so. It is a matter of integrity for our business, as well as for the emotional safety of our employees.”

“Has that happened before, too?” Taehyung couldn’t help the question from spilling out, and he flushed slightly when it brought both Chaerin’s and Namjoon’s gazes to rest on him.

“Yes,” she admitted eventually. “A few times, which I suppose is only natural. Humans can’t help who they form affection for, especially if a client is someone they see regularly. But it has never turned out good for those who remained here while in that relationship.” He could see in her eyes and hear in her voice that there was a story, perhaps a personal one, behind her words, but the way she bit the words out told him that no more questions would be answered on the matter. So instead of letting any of the number of queries on his tongue tumble out, he bit his lip and nodded. He could’ve sworn she almost seemed relieved that he’d dropped the subject.

“Anything else?” Taehyung shook his head, and she turned her gaze to Namjoon. “Mr. Kim? Is everything else detailed in the contract satisfactory?” When he nodded and hummed his affirmative, she took out a pen and handed it to Taehyung.

“Then if you could please begin by writing your name here, and initialing here…”

* * *

 

The ceiling is so starkly unfamiliar that when Taehyung first opens his eyes the next morning, he thinks for a moment he’s been kidnapped. But a minute later consciousness comes to the rescue, and trickling logic reminds him life is not a Liam Neeson movie. Even so, the memories that begin to play through his mind in crystal clear detail feel so removed, so strange that he wonders for a moment again if he is wrong. Shaking the notions from his foggy mind, he forced himself to sit up in the still foreign bed and flick on the bedside lamp.

Blinking in the wash of eggshell illumination, he reached for his phone next to the lamp, the only other familiar thing in the alien place aside from the clothes he’d left piled on a chair in the corner. The lockscreen bloomed into life, the numbers making up half past ten slowly coming into focus. With a quiet groan he rolled over until he could force his feet onto the floor. The vague memory of Hwasa mentioning breakfast being served downstairs floated into his mind, so he pushed himself to standing and tugged on the first jeans and t-shirt he could find (an old favorite, soft pink and bearing the cut outs in fabric that had become his personal trademark).

Once he was outside his room, key tucked safely into his pocket, he realized he couldn’t for the life of him remember how to get anywhere. Which is why he was extremely thankful to see two others who looked to be about his age also wandering down the hall in what he assumed to be the direction of the elevator. Brushing away the faint nervousness that had taken root in his stomach, he hurried down the hall toward them.

“Uh, hey! Excuse me!” The pair stopped, turning to fix confused gazes on Taehyung as he slowed to a stop before them. He was struck then by how attractive they both were for so early in the morning. The shorter of the two had full lips and wide brown eyes that were currently boring into Taehyung’s. The latter also couldn’t help but notice the lines of muscle dominating his short frame, or the way his pants so nicely framed his ass. The tall one was lanky, but it was clear that, like his companion, he was all muscles. His angular features bore a sunny smile, framed by dark hair that was so perfectly rumpled it looked almost styled, except for the few flyaways that were definite signs of bed head.

“Good morning!” It was the taller male that offered Taehyung the cheerful greeting, as well as his hand for Taehyung to shake, who took it and gave his best friendly smile in return. “I don’t think I’ve seen you before. You must be new. I’m Hoseok!”

“Taehyung. I was wondering…” The shorter boy was the one who spoke up next.

“Lost already?” Taehyung nodded sheepishly and the boy released a giggle so adorable Taehyung almost did a double take. Did that sound really just come from him? “Don’t worry, that’s normal. This place takes some getting used to.”

“Why don’t you come with us?” Hoseok offered, beaming at Taehyung. “Jimin and I can show you around!” Before he could make a decision for himself on the matter, Hoseok did it for him by looping his arm in Taehyung’s and dragging the drowsy boy down the hall with them.

“I’m guessing you’ve never had breakfast here then. Oh, it’s the best~ There’s a little bit of anything you could want, and if they don’t have something all you have to do is ask! Plus, it’s one of the few times you’ll really see everyone together, what with the crazy schedules we keep. Oh, we should introduce you to some of the other people our age! You’ll love them!” 

Hoseok kept up a constant stream of friendly chatter as the trio made their way to the dining hall, only requiring minimal responses from Taehyung to keep the one-sided conversation going. Taehyung was glad for the distraction, though. He was quickly finding that the more he thought about the future, about what lay in store for him, the more nervous he became. He agreed so readily, thinking he knew what he was getting into, but now he wasn’t so sure. His stomach roiled as the anxious thoughts grew into a hurricane in his mind.

Could he really do this?

Did he really have any other choice?


End file.
